Running Sprinting Speeding Tearing Away
by OohBUTTERFLY
Summary: I'm invisible. The cloak that I wear is impenetrable and strong, yet there seems to be one person who can see through it. Albus Potter. I now have only one option; To run :Written for my friend, and all those with eating disorders please show support:


I'm invisible.

Don't believe me? Well, I'll prove it to you.

See that group of girls over there? Laughing, having fun?

And see the group of boys to the left of them? Talking, joking?

There. You've just missed me. I'm sitting in between those two groups- I told you I was invisible. I'm just that too skinny girl in the corner that no one talks to.

But what is there to look at? Dark red hair, permanently frowning mouth, too big eyes.

My name is Ava Green. I'm invisible. I'm anorexic.

Welcome to my life.

* * *

It started when I was 10.

I was always thin, thinner than most. I got comments from teachers and fellow student about my weight. Many asked me if I had an eating disorder. I always answered no and outwardly looked disgusted.

It didn't register in my mind that I was secretly proud of my weight. Every time someone made comment on the thinness of my wrists, I would glow. Every time a teacher asked me how much I weighed, I would inwardly smile with delight.

I was terrified of losing it. In my mind, if I wasn't skinny, then I wasn't interesting. My weight was what gave me my 'cool' factor, and with the innocence of a ten year old, I didn't even think about how it could affect me.

Every morning I would weight myself. Every morning I would grin with glee as I saw my weight dive.

I got more comments, more queries on my weight, more worried comments from my teachers, and I was absolutely ecstatic. I felt great. My _life _was great.

But I couldn't see how my face was too pale and sallow, how I had huge circles beneath my eyes, how I was losing the energy and humour that originally made me popular.

People stopped talking to me. My plan had failed, but I simply couldn't stop.

And then the letter from Hogwarts came. Inviting me to a new school, a new place with new people away from my old friends who no longer spoke to me.

My energy was back, but my weight wasn't.

I went to Hogwarts in September as a stick thin, pale girl with a grinning face.

I came back an anorexic head case with dull eyes and a mono- syllabic vocabulary.

My parents hadn't seen it before. They thought that I was simply going through a 'small phase', but because I spent a year away from home, I no longer had to worry about their opinion and authority. I no longer had to attend breakfast, lunch and dinner. I was free.

They simply couldn't comprehend that I was anorexic. I was diagnosed the very day that I came back.

The very day that I collapsed.

I have little memory of that day. Slouching off the train, seeing my parents confused smiles. Going into the kitchen with a welcome home meal just for me.

The smell of the food was sickly and intoxicating, my parents sat down with me and watched me dutifully force the food down my throat.

They later found me collapsed upstairs in the bathroom.

The doctors were worried about my mind set. As I simply refused to talk, they weren't sure if I was verging toward suicidal or bulimic. They force fed me food, I gained two stone. I went back to Hogwarts aged 14, at just below normal weight.

My parents told the Hogwarts staff about my condition, and as soon as I came back I was taken to all meals and watched throughout and after.

The solution was simple; become a master of disguise.

I crushed peas beneath my fork, I spat my food into my sleeve, where I had crumpled a tissue. I put meat in my shoe, I placed vegetables in my mouth and then spat them out into my pumpkin juice when I pretended to take a drink.

I thought no one saw me, and I was partly right. I wasn't being watched by a Professor. I was being watched by a fellow student.

* * *

I lean against the balcony of the Astronomy tower, feeling the icy stone beneath my arms. I hold a bottle of vodka loosely in my right hand.

Bringing the bottle to my lips, I take a swig and swallow. It feels so alien to me, even after all these years of coming up here and drinking. Maybe it's because I haven't eaten properly since I was 12.

I'm 16 now.

Let me explain; Yes, I still have anorexia. Yes, I drink. No, I am not an alcoholic, but vodka has barely no calories in it, and it helps everything go away.

Yet still the flashes remain; The tubes up my nose, the overly friendly nurses that shoot you worried looks. The disdainful looks of my fellow classmates.

The cold feeling of the hospital scales between my bare feet, the Doctor's disappointed frown when he sees my weight. Filling my stomach with water before each weighing.

Trying to smother myself in my pillow, not realising it was like the ones they give babies; with holes so you can breathe.

Crying until my tears dried up every night, my whole body racked with shame and anger as I saw my body gain weight. Seeing the nurses shadows pass my room, yet none came in. None comfort me.

They gave me plastic forks, I yelled at them and overturned the table.

They told me to co-operate, I threw the food on the floor.

They tried to give me an injection to 'calm me down', I threw my hard backed books at them.

They tried to soothe me, I slapped them.

The Doctors tried to reason with me, I turned my back.

My parents tried to visit me, I screamed at them until they ran away crying.

I was 12 years old. Only a child, and yet not a single hug, not a single genuine kind word.

I know I'm anorexic. I know it's stupid, but I just can't stop.

Food sickens me. The idea of it going inside me disgusts me. I feel bloated if I eat.

And doctors can't help.

It's a vicious cycle. I can't just get out.

* * *

I'm shaken out of my inner thoughts by footsteps coming up the stairs. Hiding the bottle behind my back, I straighten up and try to look innocent.

The footsteps draw nearer, louder. I shrink back against the wall and try to look as small as possible.

The person turns the corner and pauses at the sight of me, yet they don't look surprised to see a 16 year old girl on the Astronomy tower at one in the morning. Odd.

The person steps into the moonlight and I recognise them instantly. Albus Potter.

I don't really have to explain about the Wotter's. Everyone knows them, they're the most popular kids at school. And I don't think they'd even know if I existed if asked.

Yet Albus seems to know me.

"Hi." He says, sounding slightly breathless from coming up all those stairs.

I don't reply, I'm trying to hide my bottle, but too late; He's spotted it.

"What's that?" He says warily, taking a step towards me.

I still don't reply, I'm edging away.

But he's spotted the label.

"Pure vodka?" He says, looking surprised. "Why are you drinking that."

"None of your business." I snap, my voice cracking from misuse.

"You're Ava Green, right?" He says, changing the subject.

Now I'm the one being surprised.

"How the hell d'you know who I am?" I ask, subtly slipping towards the stairs.

"Quite a few of us Potters know who you are," He says, "I'm shocked you don't remember us."

"How?" I say, still sidling towards the stairs.

"On the train back from first year," He says, watching me for my reaction, "You sat in our compartment 'cos you had nowhere else to go. We tried to get you to eat Pumpkin Pasties but you refused. You where really quite moody, but we liked you."

"I don't remember that." I admit.

"Yeah, you seemed a bit out of it," He says, nodding. "But then you disappeared for two years, where did you go by the way?" He asks, looking curious.

I blush. "I was away." I say vaguely.

"Away where?" He prods.

"Around." I say quickly, before sprinting down the stairs, leaving him behind.

But I don't know how much longer I can keep running.

* * *

**Yeah, this story is really different to my other stories. **

**I really like it, so I would be grateful if I got some reviews, cos I want to continue!**

**Thank you my lovelies!**


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